


Crowd

by rudbeckia



Series: Sugar Daddy Hux [9]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Making Up, Post-Break Up, Sugar Daddy Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12963396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Ben has left Armitage and it’s a mess. On a date with a perfectly nice man, Ben keeps thinking he sees Armitage in the crowds. He leaves his date and serendipitously meets up with Phasma, who persuades him to talk with Armitage and at least try to work thngs out.





	Crowd

Ben sighed and stared across the crowd at the bar. Something caught his attention, a flash of familiar colour, and he turned his head to look but it wasn’t him. The man at his side nudged him.  
“Hey, you looking for someone else already?”  
“What? No.” Ben sighed again. “No. Look, this isn’t... I’m gonna go. See you around.”

In the street the seasonal market was in full swing with bright lights, cheery buskers, vans where shoppers could buy pungent street food and stalls selling sweets and gaudy ornaments. The jostling crowd moved slowly and Ben dodged from gap to gap, feeling as if he was the only person in the city who was actually trying to get somewhere. Again, he caught a flash of copper and craned his head, but the redhead in the crowd was not the person he both ached and dreaded to see.

“Ben? Ben!”

The voice called from behind him and Ben swung back around. Eyes opening wider at the sight, he had to smile as he looked up. “Phasma?”  
“Do you know any _other_ towering blondes?” Phasma smiled and draped her arm around her companion’s shoulder. “You know Unamo?”  
“By reputation,” replied Ben. “Good with computers, right?”  
Unamo glared. Phasma lightly cuffed Ben around the head. “Show respect for my girlfriend, the best penetration tester in the country.” Phasma bit back a laugh at Ben’s expression. ”That means computer systems security checker by the way.”  
“You could call me a professional hacker, if you need it dumbed down,” said Unamo. “Phas, babe, I’ll meet you by the carousel? I need to go do a thing.”

Phasma leaned down to kiss Unamo and watched her walk away, then turned her attention back to Ben. “So,” she said. “What are you up to?”  
“Phasma—“  
“Let’s get coffee. There’s a place a couple of streets back. Does good cake.”  
“But—“  
“Just come with me, okay?”

Phasma hooked her arm in Ben’s and steered him away from the crowd. The coffee shop was half full and they were served quickly with tall mugs of frothy drinks and a generous wedge of rainbow cake that came with two forks. Phasma lifted a fork and pointed it at Ben.  
“He’s miserable, you know.”  
“Who?”  
Phasma rolled her eyes. “Prince fucking charming! Who do you think! Since you moved out he’s been horrible. A mess.”  
Ben shifted in his seat and scowled at the cake. “Well he shouldn’t have thrown me out, then.”  
Phasma swallowed and set her fork down on the plate. “He said you said... Oh bugger it. Ben, what happened?”  
Ben looked into Phasma’s eyes and chewed his lower lip. “Does it matter? We fought. He said I should leave. I left.”

A tall, slim figure with red hair joined the queue and Ben felt his stomach lurch. He watched until the man turned. It was not him. Phasma followed Ben’s gaze and shook her head. She lifted her fork, cut and speared a piece of cake with practised ease.  
“What if you could go back? Would you?”

Phasma filled the awkward silence by eating cake. Ben stared at his hands until he found his voice. “I can’t. I said some things. He said some things.”  
“I know. You think about him a lot, don’t you?”  
“I keep seeing him, then I look and it’s someone else. I had a date tonight with a perfectly nice guy and I thought I saw _him_ and I walked away.”  
“Brutal!” Phasma scraped up the last of the rainbow frosting. “Anyone I know?”  
Ban shrugged and made a face. “Mitaka from the London office.”  
“Oh he’s sweet!” Phasma smiled. “Doph’s not your type though.”  
“Oh really,” said Ben with an edge in his voice. “You know my type?”  
“Yes,” replied Phasma with a smirk. “You’re into tall, skinny, sarcastic gingers.” She made her face serious again and leaned in. “Look, he misses you. If there’s any chance you might forgive him for whatever the fuck he did or said, don’t let your stupid ego get in the way of saying so.”  
Phasma read the answer in his face, and pulled out her phone.

Ben barely registered the walk from the cafe to the carousel. Phasma marched with confidence in high heeled boots that made her a full five inches taller than him and impossible not to notice. Heads turned to watch her pass and Ben felt pulled along in her wake. A couple of times, Phasma checked her phone and paused to look at baubles and trinkets displayed on the street stalls. One time she even asked Ben’s advice on which particular snowglobe to buy for Unamo. Despite knowing that Phasma was only delaying their arrival, he played along.

The music from the carousel drowned out the chattering crowd and the moving lights made Ben’s head spin. Phasma thrust a warm cup of mulled wine into his hand and walked him around the whirling machine to a busy seating area. She waved and pointed then pulled Ben forward, weaving between the tables of the temporary pavement cafe. Phasma turned.  
“Don’t lose your nerve now!” Phasma pulled him on and Ben resisted, eyes fixed on the back of Armitage’s head, wondering how he could ever have mistaken those ordinary people for him. Ben took a deep breath and walked to the table. Unamo stood up, Armitage turned and Ben’s world contracted to a single face, a single instant.

And Armitage was in his arms. A few people in the crown whooped and cheered, and Ben pulled Armitage away. They walked hand in hand, bumping, too much space between them. There was nowhere quiet, nowhere private. Ben steered Armitage to a gluhwein stand and bought two cups. He handed one to Armitage and they stood warming their hands as it cooled enough to drink. Armitage stared into his drink for a minute then glanced at Ben. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly.  
“I want you to come home.”  
Ben felt his heart beat faster. He sipped his wine and nodded. Without looking up, he replied, “I want to come home, if it’s right.”  
“Well then,” said Armitage, “shall we go?”  
Ben frowned. “Don’t we need to _talk_ or something?”  
Armitage shrugged. “Do you want to talk?”  
“Not right now,” said Ben, discarding his cup. “I want to pretend we’re here on a date and everything’s fine.”

Armitage smiled and took Ben’s hand again. “A date. Then we need a romantic dinner.”  
“I’d settle for bratwurst from that stall near the carousel,” said Ben, pulling Armitage back the way they had come. “Smelled so good.”  
Weaving through the crowd hand in hand and refusing to let go was not easy, but eventually they stood at the food stall with hot fried sausage and onion. Ben wolfed his and ordered another. Armitage ate slowly.  
“Fuck this is good,” he admitted after his third bite. “Thanks for paying tonight. I don’t do cash.”  
Ben laughed. “Your face when the stallholder refused your card! Wish I’d had a camera. Want dessert? Strudel?”  
“What did you call me?”  
“No! Jeez, Armitage—“  
“I’m kidding. I actually miss your stupid pet names.”  
Ben grinned. “Okay, gingerbread.”  
“Ben, come here.”  
Ben let Armitage pull him closer. Between the sizzling and smells of the sausage cart and the swirling music of the carousel, they kissed for what felt like the first time. Ben’s stomach flipped and he giggled.  
“What?” demanded Armitage.  
“It’s the beard. I like it.”  
“I don’t think I’ve shaved since you left me.”

The moment froze. Ben stiffened and Armitage stepped back.  
“You told me to leave!” Ben’s voice was louder than he’d intended and wobbled a little. Armitage shook his head.  
“No! No, I mean I know what I said.” He took Ben’s arm. “We really do need to talk, but I really do want you to come back. Come home.”  
“No,” replied Ben. “Not yet.” He sucked his lip until he made a decision. “Neutral ground. Hotel?”  
Armitage nodded and opened a booking app on his phone.

 

“You fucking cheap bastard!” Ben choked back a laugh at the lurid plastic and perspex frontage of the hotel Armitage had booked.  
“It was all I could get!” Armitage protested. “I mean it! Seriously, do you think I would voluntarily be seen dead in a place like this?”  
“I guess not,” said Ben, “although I can imagine being murdered in one.” He held the door. Armitage stepped inside, entered his booking code into the reception touchscreen and received their room key.  
“I got the last room.”  
Ben followed Armitage up to the room and paused at the door. “Armitage, it’s a fucking cupboard. There’s no window.”  
Armitage sat on the bed and patted the space beside him. “Well then,” he said. “Let’s not stay too long.”

Ben sat beside Armitage. “Who goes first?”  
Armitage shrugged. “Heads.”  
Ben flipped a coin and it came up tails. He sighed. “It pisses me off when you act like you’re my benefactor or my saviour or whatever. Makes me feel disposable. Replaceable.” Ben stared at the wall. “Cheap.”  
“Shit, Ben! You’re everything! It killed me when you left.” Armitage grasped his own knees and pulled in to himself.  
“And yet here you are,” said Ben, “alive and well. We’re both stronger than that. Look, I always knew this point would come. You’re older, you’re rich, you’re going to want some younger arm-candy soon to show off. Calling me your _boy toy_ in front of your cronies made me realise that I’m temporary.”  
“Ah. You heard that.” Armitage kept his head down. “I was trying to make the right impression. I needed their support for a deal and I went along with their _joke_ that I had a young lover at my beck and call. It was wrong to let you hear that. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”  
“But not wrong to say it?” Ben kept his voice low despite wanting to yell.  
“Well I closed the deal and made a lot of money.” Armitage risked a glance at Ben. “Is that so bad?”  
Ben looked away. “Your turn.”

Armitage felt like pacing the room but he would have had to ask Ben to move to let him into the narrow space between the bed and the walls. He clenched his fists and tapped them on his thighs instead.  
“It pisses me off that you can’t accept gifts or money without thinking you somehow owe me. If I give you something, it’s because it makes me happy that you have it. Just fucking take it and don’t even think about it. Don’t even say thanks.” Armitage held up his hand as Ben tried to interrupt. “Not done here. I’m sick of having to look out for that massive chip on your shoulder. If you don’t like that I want to spoil you then we really are over.”  
“Is that it?” asked Ben after a minute.  
“Yes.”  
“So I’m pissed at you because you talk as if I’m a trophy in front of your business partners. You’re pissed at me because I won’t take what’s not earned.”

Armitage was silent for another minute then put his hands over his face and sobbed. Ben was on him in a second.  
“Armitage! Shit, we’re a mess.” He wrapped his arms around Armitage and held him. Armitage sagged in Ben’s grip and they lay back on the cool white bedding. Ben kissed his forehead. “We can get over this, can’t we? I mean, all you have to do is talk about me with respect. All I have to do is... um... stop being an asshole about money.”  
Armitage calmed after a few minutes in Ben’s arms. They lay on the bed, Armitage’s head on Ben’s shoulder, saying nothing. Ben stroked Armitage’s face.  
“Okay. Let’s go home,” said Ben. “I don’t want to talk any more tonight and I sure as hell don’t want to stay here.”

Armitage used the tiny washroom to cool his face but the puffy pink blotches around his eyes remained. Ben led him out of the hotel and into a taxi, paid for the taxi and led him up to his front door. Ben fumbled in his pocket for his keyring, unlocked the door and let them both in. Once inside the dark hallway, Ben held Armitage tightly again.  
“We can work this out tomorrow, can’t we?” asked Ben in a low voice. Armitage nodded and wiped his face on his sleeves. “Okay,” said Ben. “No more words tonight. Shower and bed.”

Armitage closed his eyes and nodded. Ben led him upstairs to their master bedroom and guided him into the ensuite. Armitage stripped and got into the shower, allowing himself a smile. Who would have believed that a few tears could be so effective.


End file.
